


Goop, Or Five Times Steve Rogers Was Covered In... Something, And One Time Tony Was

by Bill_Longbow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aliens, Birds, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Fanon Cliches, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mistreatment Of Kitchen Appliances, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, POV Alternating, Team as Family, handwavey medicine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24275791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bill_Longbow/pseuds/Bill_Longbow
Summary: There were a lot of things Steve had expected about the future; sleek buildings, sleeker electronics, and all the food you can eat. Being covered in alien goop wasn't one of them.orHow Steve being covered in... stuff, brings Tony and Steve closer.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 36
Kudos: 224
Collections: Captain America/Iron Man Reverse Bang 2020





	Goop, Or Five Times Steve Rogers Was Covered In... Something, And One Time Tony Was

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cachette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cachette/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Boop [Art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305227) by [Cachette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cachette/pseuds/Cachette). 



> Written for Acachette's gorgeous art, I felt very lucky I got to write something for it! You'll find it embedded in the text at the end of the fic.  
> Massive thank you to [Flame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betheflame/) for cheering and betaing!
> 
> And also a big shout out to the Stuckony discord server where folks helped me decide what to cover Steve in!

"I can explain…"

\---

_Six months earlier_

"You did not just do that."

Steve grins unabashedly at Tony's gasp as he neatly puts down _ammonia_ , where he knows Tony was planning something else. It doesn't give him that many points, but blocking Tony's master move towards triple word points is worth it. 

"Your turn," he says sweetly and pulls two letters from the bag. 

_Z_ and _J_

Odin punishes immediately, apparently. 

He looks up to Tony squinting at him, so he smiles back extra friendly, but he can't help turning it into a grin when Tony shakes his head and puts down _pail,_ still with double points on the _L_.

Steve studies the board. It's getting more difficult the longer they play, and Tony's ‘pail’ didn't help him one whit. 

"Was Scrabble on your super soldier boot camp itinerary?" 

"USO," Steve mutters, rearranging the letters on his little shelf. 

"USO."

"Yup." Steve pops the ‘p’ as he remembers the free lying _U_.

"He cheats, Lite Brite," Clint yells from where he's beating Thor at Mario Kart. 

"I don't cheat," Steve answers automatically. He's just very good at creative application of the rules.

"Using your freaky super vision to look at the reflection of people's cards in the microwave, _via_ your teammate's glasses, is chea-ting," Clint singsongs the last word. 

"That's using your resources wisely," Steve counters, looking up to wink at Tony. He likes the way Tony is around them, nothing at all like that horrid, fabricated rapport S.H.I.E.L.D. tried to shove at Steve. Tony is sweet and funny and caring. All else is just a front, and Steve knows what maintaining those is like. 

"You sound like Nat, YES, take _that,_ Odinson!"

Steve smiles when Clint's rendition of _Eye of the Tiger_ is cut short with a whelp when Thor claps his massive hand on Clint's shoulder in a show of good natured camaraderie. 

"Ready to give up, Steven?" Tony asks with a glint in his eye, and Steve shakes his head. 

"Never." For good measure he puts on his _Captain America means business_ face. 

"I haven't lost at Scrabble for three decades, I'm giving you the opportunity to walk away with your dignity somewhat intact…"

Whatever smart thing Steve might've come up with is moot when suddenly the Avengers alarm sounds and everyone jumps up. 

"Portal is opening above Springfield," J.A.R.V.I.S. tells them as they troop out of the common area towards the quinjet hangar bay. 

Just six months since the Chitauri invasion, but already they run like a well oiled machine, and Steve feels a large sense of pride for his team. 

Iron Man and Thor will go ahead to get additional intel and send it back to J.A.R.V.I.S. who will project it on the quinjet so Nat and Steve can plan a course of action. Bruce will start filtering the other data, together with Iron Man and J.A.R.V.I.S. -- Steve keeps being in awe Tony can do all these things simultaneously and better than most people to boot -- and Hawkeye will get them there asap, while keeping in contact with agent Coulson. It's a system which runs better each time they are called upon, and now is no exception. 

S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are maintaining a perimeter when they arrive, while Thor and Iron Man do their best to lure what appear to be giant cubes of green jell-o away from habitation. 

So far seven cubes have fallen through the portal and just when Steve exits the quinjet he sees another one emerge, falling the sixty odd feet with a high pitched screech, and then bouncing back up at impact. Everyone braces themselves when the cube seems to come their way, but somehow the thing manages to control its course and bounces over to where the rest lay screeching amongst themselves. 

Steve grits his teeth against the noise which sounds like nails over blackboard times twenty, even through the ear plugs their teammates warned them to wear. 

"Agent, any developments?"

Coulson turns to regard them with his trademark agreeable smile and shakes his head. "Negative, Captain. There's no pattern to their entry, and apart from causing damage to the ears, the beings haven't acted hostile."

Suddenly there's a commotion in the group of cubes. The screeching pitches even higher until it falls still. The things - aliens?- have no discernable features, but still Steve feels like their attention is focused on him. He turns towards them and waves for lack of an alternative action. 

The screeching erupts even louder than before, and Steve holds his hands over his ears in agony. Immediately the aliens stop again, giving the impression they're waiting for his next move. 

"Cap, please stop whatever you're doing, they just fried three of my sensors with their tittering." Iron Man sounds annoyed, for as much as the speakers can convey Tony's emotions. 

"They seem as surprised to be here as we are," Hawkeye remarks. 

"Because you can tell by the way their blobness vibrates at the corner, right?" Tony snarks, but Steve can't afford to smile at the joke. 

"Chatter," he says, when Bruce interrupts. 

"Got a lock on where they came from, I can open another portal to help them return."

"Well away from them if we do it." If just waving causes his eardrums to explode Steve doesn't want to think about what opening another portal will do. 

The aliens do resemble a sad huddle of stragglers. Maybe Clint is right, but Steve doesn't want to open a portal for an invading army, even if it looks like dessert. 

New screeching sounds and they all look at the portal for a new incomer, but nothing emerges. The cubes start screeching enthusiastically when Thor lands next to them, screeching back. 

"Captain!" Thor waves Steve to come closer. 

"They understand _Ioouioauiuu._ I didn't immediately hear because they were talking in a dialect. This is most fortunate. _Uuiooiaaaioiiiaaieeiiuiiuiiiaaui oui uuiaauioy?"_

Steve winces but schools his features into a friendly smile, which he manages to maintain all through the "conversation."

"You think this is how the Aesir talk without their allspeak mojo?" Tony asks on a private channel, and again Steve has to keep a straight face. 

"Behave," he whispers, and hides his grin in a cough when Tony replies with " _make me._ "

"Captain, it seems one of their scientists inadvertently opened the portal that sucked them in. They are deeply sorry for any inconvenience caused and like to return home as swiftly as possible."

The cubes manage to look contrite, but Steve is sure that's his imagination playing tricks on him. 

"Thank you, Thor," he nods. "You got that, Bruce? Open the portal."

They all turn around to watch a second portal open a few hundred yards away. 

The cubes start bouncing up and down in what Steve supposes is excitement, when a world is revealed that could best be described as the inside of cotton candy.

Loud screeching comes from the portal, echoed by the group next to Steve. The group bounces over to the portal, except for one who converses with Thor in, for their species, hushed tones. 

Thor turns to Steve with a beatific smile on his face which Steve trusts for as far as he can throw the demigod. 

"Friend Steven, _Aaaiiu_ would like to offer you a parting gift, for your hospitality."

Steve smiles politely, dreading what is to come, which is only strengthened when Thor takes a big step back.

"What's happening," Tony asks over the comms as the cube, Ayu, starts to wobble and shimmer.

Before anyone can react the cube flops forward and completely envelops Steve for a second where he can’t see, he can’t breathe. His team’s frantic shouts on the comm cut off and he’s surrounded by sheer joy and happiness and sweetness and then it’s over, the cube rolls on and hops after the others, leaving Steve _drenched_ in green sticky slime.

“What the everloving fuck was that?” Iron Man lands next to Steve with one hand on Steve’s shoulder, looking him up and down. “You alright? No after effects? What the hell did it do to you?”

“Isn’t a hug a customary goodbye gift on your planet, Man of Iron?” Thor asks, sounding genuinely confused, but if the faceplate could narrow its eyes Iron Man would no doubt be squinting right now.

“I’m okay,” Steve says, wiping slime away from his face and pulling off his cowl. “Just… very…” he lifts the arm with the cowl. Green slime slowly drips off in long stretchy rivulets.

“I need a shower.”

\---

_Four months ago_

“Sir, a situation has arisen in the kitchen I believe needs your attention.”

Tony looks up from where he’s messing with a new type of water filtration system. Messing meaning playing with water and chemicals to see how good it actually is. JARVIS is the best at computing, but nothing beats the hands on approach from time to time. 

"What's up, J?"

"Captain Rogers is experiencing some difficulties," is JARVIS' prim answer and Tony frowns. JARVIS knows Tony is absolutely no help in the kitchen whatsoever, so this must be something else. 

"Fine, don't tell me." He sticks his tongue out at one of JARVIS' cameras because he knows it makes the AI's metaphorical eyes roll and pushes away from the desk. 

The noise hits him as soon as the elevator doors open. There's the wheezing of Clint's laughter, the zooming and beeping of the roombas, and the voice of someone he doesn't recognize, apologizing profusely in… Mandarin?

Uh oh.

"Tell me it's not what I think it is, J," Tony mutters as he hurries to the kitchen. He is overtaken by another five roombas who are going the same way. 

Uh oh.

"I wouldn't presume to understand anything you're thinking. Sir."

"Don't play Siri with me, we both know you don't go Skynet because you can't be bothered."

Tony hears Steve as well when he comes closer, muttering under his breath. 

"Just minding you is a day-to-day task," JARVIS chuckles, but Tony forgets to ground his wayward AI son when he rounds the corner to absolute mayhem. 

There's pink… goop everywhere, including covering one super soldier _who is in the process of stripping and dear Lord so many muscles stop staring Tony you're only making it worse but look at all the… the..._

With a monumental force of will Tony manages to tear his gaze away from Steve and his whole… perfectness, to where the Roomba horde is busy cleaning up every surface, chattering amongst themselves. Ha! He knew it was smart to give them wall climbing properties. 

They center around an appliance Tony can't remember buying, or creating, which somehow manages to look angry without any facial features. 

"Nǐ hǎo?" Tony tries, and is immediately accosted by an excited explanation of how the little blender had tried to warn the Captain its lid wasn't screwed on right and that he most certainly shouldn't try the super setting, not even with the lid screwed on right, and that he also shouldn't add so much milk and--

"Oh for fuckssake!"

Tony's attention is drawn to where a Roomba mopping the ceiling inadvertently doused the good Captain with soapy water - _note to self, invent new waterless detergent_.

Wow. Shirtless, dripping wet, _cursing like a sailor_ Steve just shot its way to the top spot of Tony's mental spank bank. He can only hope JARVIS loves him enough to have made a recording. From several angles. Not that Tony would watch those, because that would be creepy, but it would be nice to know it exists. 

"At least you're clean again?" Tony tries, earning him the meanest look he has ever had the dishonour of receiving. 

Until Steve scoops up some foam from his chest - _don't stare don't stare don't stare_ \- and flicks it with super soldier precision into Clint's face who seems to be having a stroke from laughing so hard. How he manages to stay perched on the fridge is anyone's guess. 

Steve then turns back to Tony and advances. 

"No, Steve," Tony protests, holding up his hands in defence as he backs away. "I had nothing to do with this, I'm just an innocent bystander who happens to invent appliances that run on vibranium and talk Mandarin when they're sleep deprived. Besides, it could be good for your--" 

Steve doesn't stop and suddenly lunges, pulling Tony tight against him. The absolute last thing Tony registers is the soapy, fruity mess he's now covered in, not with being pulled against naked Steve chest, and with beautiful Steve face grinning down at him. 

"-- skin?"

"Something wrong with my skin, _Tony?"_ Steve… Steve croons. He actually croons and Tony is pretty sure he'll wake up from this dream/hallucination/death - _don't think about petit mort_ \- any minute now. 

"No?" He doesn't squeak. Stark men grunt, it was a manly grunt.

"If you say so," Steve shrugs and regretfully backs away. But he's still grinning and Tony is mesmerized by it. 

"What were you even attempting to make?" 

Steve _blushes_ \- and wow, Tony doesn't need that image on top of the other - and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. 

"I read about this power smoothie online?" Steve hedges, and Tony wonders what exactly was in it to make it this… pink and viscous.

"Pink slime suits you better than green," Tony smirks, and is rewarded with renewed blushing, but then Steve leans forward a little. 

"That's not the only pink I'm wearing," he whispers, before turning around and walking away, laughing out loud when Tony coughs. 

Damn.

\---

_Three months ago_

“We're never talking about this again.” 

Steve turns around and squelches his way across the expensive lobby floor to the elevator and mentally counts backwards from 300 hoping his teammates will let him leave with the illusion of his dignity still intact. Only 299 seconds until he can shower, 298, 297. He resolutely ignores Bruce’s snickering behind him, but he can’t pretend he doesn’t hear the expensive Italian loafers that run after him. 

"Spangles, cupcake, don't be mad." Tony sounds slightly out of breath, but not sorry in the slightest. 

"I'm not mad." _Squelch squelch._

He resists the urge to speed up and jog towards the elevator. That would be running away, and Steve Rogers never runs away from anything, ask the Smithsonian. 

"You just…" Tony starts when he catches up with Steve and waves in Steve's general direction to convey the rest of the sentence. To be fair Tony seems to make an effort to school his features as far as they're not obscured by his sunglasses, but Steve _knows_ Tony's eyes will be wrinkled at the corners while shining with mirth. He knows, and he's very fond of that look, but not when he's absolutely soaked in bird shit.

"I know." _251, 250._

"It could've happened to anyone?"

Steve shoots Tony a Look and Tony holds up his hands before pushing his sunglasses up into his hair. "Yeah, fair enough."

Only ten more steps to where J.A.R.V.I.S. keeps the elevator doors open, but instead of letting Steve go up in peace Tony enters as well and stands next to him like he doesn't reek to high heaven. 

Their eyes meet in the mirror of the elevator door and Tony's whole face scrunches up until he lets out a snicker and Steve loses it himself. The corners of his mouth quirk up, and he lets out a huff, making Tony actually _giggle_. 

"On my God, Steve!" he laughs and Steve's grin turns into a chuckle. 

"I know…"

"There were…"

"Yeah."

"And then you just had to…" Tony exclaims, laughing out loud now. 

"Well, I couldn't _not…_ " Steve laughs himself.

"You… and then their face… and… and... all of them!" Tony's laughing so hard Steve can barely make out the words, clinging to the railing to keep himself upright. 

"But who would've expected..!" 

"I knoooow!" Tony practically wails. 

Steve clutches his chest in laughter and almost startles when his hand encounters the wet, cold, _horrible-slimy-don't-think-about-it_ shit.

For a second Tony falls quiet as well, but then they double over again, laughing so hard Steve has difficulty breathing. 

They straighten when the elevator dings its arrival on the common floor, soft chuckles dying away. 

"See you later, Tony," Steve says after he steps out onto the floor.

"Not until after at least seven showers," Tony grins and blows Steve a kiss, laughing loudly when he jumps away just in time to avoid being flicked in the face with droplets of shit.

Steve isn't surprised to find a gift basket the next morning at his door, containing three different shower gels, five bath bombs, and a heron shaped umbrella. 

\---

_Two months ago_

Tony leans forward on his toes to check his reflection in the mirrored glass of the workshop doors, but catches himself and waves at JARVIS to open the doors instead. He's not twelve and this is not a date. It's a… house call? Yeah, let's go with house call. It's a friendly house call of one teammate to another; one could make a case it's a business meeting even. 

Purely platonic business meeting between co-workers. This sounds good and plausible if anyone should ask him where he's going. Not that he encounters anyone up the flight of stairs to the common floor, nor on his trek from the stairwell to Steve's quarters. 

He's not entirely sure what time it is, but JARVIS assured him Steve is awake and expecting Tony, which makes this visit even more legitimate.

He does a jaunty little knock on the wood when he stands in front of the door, but his unease grows when nothing happens. 

"J, what gives?" Tony leans his ear against the door to try and listen to what's going on inside, despite knowing he made the whole of this floor soundproof.

"It seems Captain Rogers is indisposed after all, Sir, I'm sorry."

What?

"What? Did he fall asleep? Is he in the…?"

 _Oh God._ The sudden vision of Steve in the shower helpfully blooms in front of Tony's mind's eye, but he's sure JARVIS would've just told him that, so he shakes his head to clear it. 

"The Captain is working."

"Working."

"Correct. He doesn't respond to my queries. I believe he's ‘in the zone’, Sir." 

Tony smiles, not sure how he's lucky enough to have an AI friend who can convey quotation marks by tone of voice alone. 

"Okay. Well. Since he has a standing invitation to enter the workshop, when I'm ‘ _in the zone_ ’," Tony makes the actual motion with his fingers, "and he _is_ expecting me, I believe I can enter and wait him out. Right? Right."

JARVIS doesn't try to talk him out of it, which means he's not crossing any kind of protocol he threw into place when the Avengers came and shacked up with him, so he tries the door and finds he can push it open. 

Tony hasn't been here since he designed the suite, and steps in curious to see how it looks now. He gave his teammates unlimited access to funds and resources to shape their little home away from home. (Not that any of them has somewhere to be apart from a dormitory in Fury’s hospice of wayward spies and soldiers. Except for Thor of course, who has _two_ other places to call home. Must come with being a royal and a god or something.) 

"Steve?" Tony calls, but receives no answer so he walks further inside. 

The floors are the same dark oak Tony picked for Steve, but the light blue on the walls has been replaced with white and orange. Steve added a lot more bookcases, which are filled with books and knick knacks Tony recognizes from some of their missions. On the floor near the couch is a large red carpet, and there’s a lounge chair near the window Tony doesn’t recognize. The place feels homely, but not as old fashioned as Tony thought it would be. Though if anyone has the power to surprise Tony it’s Steve. He’s both nothing like Howard made him out to be and much more so, a study in contrasts. Tony doesn’t like to think about if Steve hadn’t taken him up on his offer to come live in the tower. It's weird how attached Tony has become, to his whole team actually. Despite his strict ‘don't get close’ rule, they all wormed their way into Tony's heart and so far he hasn't regretted it yet.

He stops his trek at the lounge chair when his eye falls on the sketch book that lies open on the ground next to it. 

It's a drawing of a scene he remembers vividly. Dum-E had just finished an art work - spurred on by Steve often drawing in the workshop - and the quality and subject had taken Tony's breath away. In the drawing Tony is hugging his bot child around his metal strut; his eyes are closed and Dum-E leans his camera on Tony's shoulder. It looks like… like love, and the image makes him smile fondly. It’s rare for someone to recognize the bond Tony has with his bots, so far only his Platypus did, but Steve has adopted them like an uncle and it’s not a small part of why Tony is so fond of him.

Just thinking of Steve does weird things to Tony’s insides and he quickly moves through the space to the open door at the other side of the living room. 

Steve's at work in his little studio and Tony quietly leans against the door frame to watch him. He's in the zone alright and it's a sight to behold. Covered in paint of different colours, Steve is painting long streaks across a large canvas, his ridiculous arm muscles flexing and stretching as he paints with sure movements. It's a skyline, the city as seen from Steve's lounge chair to be precise, and it's beautiful, but not nearly as much as the man painting it. 

Even with dark blue, purple, and grey streaks in his hair and on his skin, Steve is gorgeous, beyond gorgeous. There's an inner beauty to him others easily miss - either too awed by the cowl and the shield, or dismissive of his old timey charm. He’s courageous and earnest and virtuous, sure, but that’s only part of the picture, like a… like a colouring page yet to be filled. He is _nice_ in that rare way that means he actually cares, he’s funny, smart, perceptive. He’s also a total slob, and a cheat and a rival to Clint and Tony’s level of sarcasm and teasing. He’s a sore loser and an arguer for the sake of arguing and Tony is madly, utterly gone over him.

Steve Rogers is as perfect a human being as you can get, and it has nothing to do with the serum.

Settling the prototype fabric he brought as a conversation starter onto his lap, Tony sits down to wait Steve out, luxuriating in the knowledge they’re going _somewhere_ , Steve and him.

At some point Steve looks up and not quite startles when he sees Tony. His face morphs from frowning in intense concentration into smiling widely, and it's like watching the clouds break open to reveal the sun - what is it about Steve that brings the poet out in Tony? 

“Hey,” Steve smiles, and absentmindedly wipes more paint onto his face when he combs his bangs to the side. “You’ve been here long?”

“Don’t really know,” Tony shrugs, and points at Steve’s face. “You’ve got a little…”

Steve’s eyes widen and he wipes at the indicated cheek, only adding to the mess. He seems to realize when he spots the paint on his other hand and he hurriedly holds down both hands, a delightful blush on his cheeks. 

“I was working…” he says sheepishly, even indicating the large canvas with one hand.

“I saw,” Tony smiles and gets up from his spot near the door to get a closer look. “Tell me about it?”

Steve’s answering smile is even brighter than the one before, and as Steve loses himself in talking about his painting, Tony loses himself in watching Steve.

  
  


\---

_Four weeks ago_

Doombots. Why is it always aliens or Doombots? It’s like Steve and his team are starring in a poorly written action series. (Steve might’ve developed an addiction to these in the last months, with Batman as his favourite one so far.) They're small ones this time, resembling cockroaches of a foot long that skitter up all available surfaces. 

It's a nightmare. He has a hard time keeping them off him, their sharp pincers starting to wear down the inforced fabric of his pants and whenever he stomps two, there are three more skittering up the backside of his legs. Thor kills large swaths of them in one go with his lighting, and Nat and Clint punch small dents in the horde with the Widow Bites and 'Fun' arrows, but Steve is struggling and they’re wearing him down with their sheer numbers. 

Just when he thinks it can't get any worse a large one emerges. And of course Tony goes at it by himself. And of course that's where Doom located all of his fire power. 

Steve starts running the moment he sees the bot starts shooting out electricity and all the little ones stutter for a moment. "The large one feeds off the smaller ones! Stop frying them!" he yells frantically in the comms. 

"Already on it," Iron Man mutters. In the background Steve hears J.A.R.V.I.S rattle off probabilities before the comm shuts off again.  
  
Steve weaves his way through the sea of bots, his speed making him hard for them to attach to, but still he isn’t going fast enough. Thor wacks the large bot with his hammer while Iron Man hovers and darts just out of reach of the unibeam the large bot has in a parody of the Iron man armour. The thing transforms as Steve vaults over… he doesn't even register over what when the large bot grabs hold of Iron Man and flings him into a nearby building. 

“Iron Man, stand down!” Steve yells, increasing his speed, when the armour wobbles to its feet and engages again, firing at the huge robot in an erratic pattern.

This is why being in a team is dangerous. He doesn't want any of his friends to get hurt. He's only now slowly recovering from Bucky's death, he'll break if Tony--

Swords? The Doombot shifts its arms and is now wielding two huge swords? If Steve ever gets his hands on Doom he’ll make sure how he feels about giant robots with swords invading the streets of New York. Thor and Iron Man are flying around and around, forcing the bot to spin after them in circles. 

“There are power cords on its back, follow them down,” Iron Man tells Thor over the comms, and Steve’s heart all but stops when he sees what Tony’s plan is. He knows the man by now, knows he will do _anything_ to keep others safe. 

“NOOOO,” Steve yells, but it’s no use. Almost in slow motion he sees the armour fly into reach of the sword arms just as Thor comes up from behind. Steve sees Thor lift his hammer to smash what could be the power source, but too late. The giant bot flings out one of its arms, _piercing_ the Iron Man armour from front to back, right before Mjolnir connects with the power source and the bot freezes. 

Steve barely registers all the small bots dropping dead as he closes the final distance to the big bot and looks up to see the armour almost flutter to the ground, J.A.R.V.I.S. obviously working hard to give his master as soft a landing as possible right in Steve’s arms. The front of the armour is a mess, a huge hole reveals the bloody mess that should be Tony’s stomach and Steve is frozen in fear.

_He can’t he can’t he can’t he can’t…_

The faceplate flips open to reveal Tony’s beautiful face, his eyes locking onto Steve’s without fail.

“Steve.” Tony smiles and Steve is helpless to do anything but smile back, as he hugs the armour tight against his chest, his gloves wet and sticky on Tony’s back.

“Hey,” he says back, stupidly. There are so many things he wants to say, _needs_ to say to this man, but he feels his eyes moisten and his lower lip wants to wobble, so he keeps his mouth shut in a painful smile. 

“Hoped you’d kiss me this time,” Tony smirks but then he sighs and loses consciousness, leaving Steve to fight his tears alone as S.H.I.E.L.D. medics rush in to take Tony from his arms. 

He doesn’t remember falling to his knees, but he must have, because Nat is crouched next to him, talking to him, urging him to come. He helplessly looks at her and sees the same fear and sadness that threatens to gut him. When he hefts himself tiredly to his feet, he notices he’s covered in blood. His armour sticks cold and wet against his chest and his gloves are caked a dark rusty brown, and it’s enough to make him double over in anguish.

“There’s still hope, Steve,” Nat coaxes him gently, her small arms holding up his bulk, and he nods. He takes a deep breath, and then another, and through sheer force of will straightens and walks with Nat to where a helicopter is waiting for them.

Tony will be okay. He must be.

  
  
  


They operate on Tony for hours. Hours Steve spends on a chair he took from the waiting room and put down outside the operating theatre. An intern tries to dissuade him from waiting here, but he only needs to raise an eyebrow to send the young man on his way. Later a nurse ushers Steve into an empty room after hour three, and orders him to shower and change ‘or else’. He’s not sure if it’s because he’s numb to the point where it feels like the ice, or because she reminds him of his mom, but Steve complies and when he emerges from the scalding hot water he’s not surprised to find his own clean clothes on the empty bed and Nat, Clint, Bruce and Thor waiting on their own borrowed chairs in the hall next to Steve’s. 

They don’t need words anymore. They all exude the same worry, for their teammate, for each other. They don’t like to see the others in pain, but they have learned not to hide their own: they’re family, they share. 

Steve smiles and sits down between them to take up his vigil again. Bruce hands him a large coffee and Clint the last donut. 

They wait.

  
  
  


After seven hours and twenty three minutes, the doctor comes out, looking worn but confident. Thor is on his third food run, Clint is off doing magic tricks on the pediatric ward, but Nat, Bruce and Virginia - who joined them two hours ago - all stand up with Steve to hear what she has to say.

“Mister Stark is a _very_ lucky man,” the doctor starts, and they let out a collective breath. 

_Is._ She said _is._

“We’re keeping him unconscious for the next twenty four hours miminum, but he’s stable, and should make a full recovery.”

Steve squeezes Nat’s hand and welcomes Ginny’s hug, wrapping one arm around her in relief. _Tony will be okay._

“Captain Rogers, you’re allowed to see him if you want?”

Nat and Ginny smile up at him knowingly at his confused frown. Only next of kin are allowed to see someone in IU, he knows from when Clint came home more dead than alive from a botched mission last year. 

“Tony named you his emergency contact,” Ginny explains as Bruce squeezes Steve’s shoulder. “Go, Steve.”

He nods. He’ll sort out later what it means that Tony gave him the power to decide over his life or death, for now he needs to see him and know for certain he’s alright. Steve follows a nurse through a maze of corridors and back staircases finally through a nondescript door. 

Steve thanks the nurse and rolls the one stool in the room next to the bed, and ignores her when she tells him she’ll collect him after fifteen minutes. All his attention is focussed on Tony, and on not breaking out in tears again.

He fails. When he gently slides his hand under Tony’s, he can’t hold back. Tony is larger than life, and movement, and technicolour neon blazing. Not small, not ashen white, not intubated and injected, surrounded by machines that keep him alive. He knows Tony will be alright, that the steady beep beep of the heart monitor means he’s alive, but he can’t get over how small Tony looks, how vulnerable, how utterly breakable. So he quietly sobs, as silently as he can, until he can breathe steady again. He doesn’t know if Tony is dreaming or not, if he can hear Steve, if he’s able to sense that he’s not alone, but when the nurse comes to collect him Steve firmly refuses to budge. He’s not leaving Tony, he can’t. 

  
  
  


They keep Tony in a coma for four days more. Somewhere an extra bed is moved into the room which all the staff politely ignores. Somehow there’s always leftover food just waiting to be warmed up when Steve emerges to use the restroom. That's the only time Steve leaves Tony's side, that and when they have to clean and dress the wounds. 

It's an oddly tranquil way to spend the time. Steve is content to sit and wait in silence, but he doesn't want Tony to feel alone wherever his genius mind is floating, so he talks. He tells Tony about his mom, about growing up sick, about needing to prove he can do better than people think. He cries a little when he talks about Bucky, his brother who he lost in the war. He recounts war stories about the Howlies, talks about Howard and Peggy. 

He tells Tony about what it was like waking up from thinking he was dead. About the confusion and overwhelming grief, but how he found a new team who became his new family. About how one man gave him a _home_ , and how Steve can never even begin to repay that kindness, but he will try nonetheless. 

It's actually when Steve is quietly drawing that Tony wakes. It's a sudden thing. Steve knows they are lowering the tranquilizers, but one moment Tony lies as if sleeping and the next moment Steve looks up from his paper Tony is watching him. It's almost enough to make him startle, but this is _Tony_ , and Steve dreamed about Tony waking up for almost four days straight now. 

All the things he planned to say evaporate from his mind when Tony slowly blinks and smiles. 

"Hey," he smiles instead, and scoots a little closer to the bed, where he carefully slides his hand under Tony's again in a move already familiar to him. New is how Tony softly squeezes back, and how his smile turns even brighter despite his obvious fatigue. 

"Hi," Tony answers, unable to muster more than a whisper with his parched throat.

Steve knows he should call for the doctor, but he needs to savour this moment for just a little bit before he does. Needs to soak up the warmth from Tony's gaze before he inevitably has to share Tony's attention again. Needs to bask in the knowledge that _Tony is okay_. 

Later, after the nurses and doctors have bustled around and done their tests, after Steve talked to Rhodey on the phone to give his team the good news, after Steve has had a shower and a shave, they sit together again. Tony is a little more upright in the bed - the horrid nasal tube gone and a little more colour on his cheeks. 

Steve's hand finds Tony's without fail, and Tony squeezes it with more force. 

"I love you," Steve says without preamble, because there is no need for it. They nearly lost this, and he's not gonna waste another second of his happily ever after.

"I know," Tony grins, and it's just like he hasn't spent four days in an artificial coma.

"Really, Tony? You're gonna make me your princess?" Steve asks, and tries to keep a straight face, but fails miserably because his mouth insists on staying in this goofy grin.

"If I'm good, will you wear the slave costume for my birthday?" 

Steve barks a laugh and nods. "Way sooner than that. You're gonna wish I’d wear some regular clothes once in a while. People will confuse me with Wonder Woman,” he grins. Tony’s answering giggle is the best sound Steve has ever heard, and it makes him warm and glowy inside.

“I love you too,” Tony says simply, and it’s perfect. With everything the powers that be have thrown at Steve, he still gets to have this, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

  
  


\---

_Now_

"But how?"

Steve sounds bewildered. Bewildered is not how lovers should sound on Valentine's day. Tony might not know much about the holiday, but bewildered isn't on the little flash card he made. Neither was Steve arriving two hours earlier than expected, face hidden behind a bouquet of flowers so obscenely large only a super soldier could carry it. 

Unfortunately when Steve lowered the flowers it wasn't to the sight of a perfect three tier three types of chocolate heart shaped cake on the pristine table in their pristine kitchen, but to… well. Even Tony with all his eloquence has trouble describing the sheer scale of the mess surrounding them. 

The recently repainted walls are dripping with three kinds of chocolate batter; the floor is littered with the cute little sugar hearts Tony would've jauntily sprinkled on top of the cake; what should have been edible rose petals is still a sad blob of pink/white/red streaked marzipan, also on the floor. 

"I can explain…" Tony starts, though now that he surveys his surroundings he's not quite sure what made him think this was a good idea. 

"I wanted to make you a cake," Tony starts again as he waves the cloth he ineffectually uses to try and clean his hands. "But, well, the dough was too thick for the white chocolate one, so I made that one anew, but that put me back on the chilli chocolate and the coffee toffee one, so I thought, what if I merge three mixers and power them with a tiny arc reactor?" 

It was so logical at the time, but looking at the mess around him he concedes he might've miscalculated somewhere. What if he put lids on the bowls and decreased the power with one point four percent and--

"You made three kinds of batters for me?"

"Hmm, yeah, was gonna make a cake this high," Tony answers, motioning at the height of his breast bone. "So you could eat whatever your crazy super stomach can stomach," he shrugs. Never mind he never baked anything more complicated than an omelette in his life. Baking is science, right? Maybe decrease power by 2.4 percent and make the bowls 32 percent bigger. What if he decreased the surface area of the--

" _Tony_."

Tony looks up to see Steve managed to put the flowers down on a relatively chocolate free space - the floor near the elevator - and is standing next to Tony with that huge, goofy grin of his that spells trouble with a capital T. 

"You've got a little something there," Steve points and carefully scoops a little batter from Tony's cheek to put into his mouth. 

"Yummy," he grins and reaches out again, but Tony stops him with a feeble hand on Steve’s wrist.

“Steven, this is unsanitary.”

Steve isn’t bothered at all and reaches out with his other hand to wipe batter from Tony’s other cheek. “Mmm, chilli chocolate.”

“You’re breaking _at least_ four health and safety protocols.” Tony starts backing away with his hands raised but Steve advances with that unholy grin that shouldn’t be as attractive as it is and pulls Tony close enough to lick some more chocolate from his forehead. 

“Raw eggs, you’re licking raw eggs. There’s poop in raw flour.”

“I like living on the edge,” Steve grins and licks the corner of Tony’s mouth and there goes Tony’s whole train of thought. His eyes close on their own volition and he’s _ready_ to be kissed senseless and maybe licked some more, but Steve, the bastard, pulls back.

“I like the coffee toffee one best,” he smiles, and he looks so genuinely pleased and angelic that Tony has to reach out to smear a dollop of the indicated flavour onto Steve’s nose. 

“There, now we match.”

“Chocolate looks better on you. The batter looks better,” Steve giggles and it’s such a stupid pun but Tony can’t help but laugh at it.

“That was awful, Rogers,” he says as he wraps both arms around Steve’s neck, effectively ruining Steve’s cosy shirt with Tony’s overall chocolatiness. 

“I can do batter,” Steve grins and nuzzles Tony’s nose.

“Surprise me.”

“Your eyes match the chocolate fondue on your face.”

Tony fondly rolls his eyes. “Howard told me about that, you know.”

“Can I dip my breadstick in your fondue?” Steve snickers against the skin of Tony’s neck and they both erupt in laughter, holding each other up.

“Please don’t ever do that again, I give up, you win, you are the uncrowned king of horrible innuendo. Please, please, please, never again,” Tony pleads, but can’t keep a straight face even if he tries. 

“King huh? And what does that make you?” Steve grins, victorious.

“Your loyal subject? Squire? _Stableboy._ Anything to keep you from making that joke again,” Tony says with a dramatic air, and leans into Steve some more, his whole solid solidness enough to make Tony swoon like a damsel.

“Anything?” 

Before Tony can nod Steve has picked him up bridal style and carries him off. 

"Lover will do," Steve smiles, both cheeky and sincere and Tony melts, draping his arms over Steve's broad shoulders.

**Author's Note:**

> Come join us on the 16+ [ Stuckony discord server ](https://discord.gg/jtXcc3n) for all things Tony, Bucky and Steve!
> 
> My beta asked me about the different ways I use to write Jarvis and Shield. These are intentional. I hc that Steve thinks about acronyms with the capital letters and dots and all, like J.A.R.V.I.S., and Tony would not.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Boop [Art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305227) by [Cachette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cachette/pseuds/Cachette)




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